


A single step

by neela



Series: SCOAFF!verse [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Prequel, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27384748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neela/pseuds/neela
Summary: “Now you know the truth,” the Sekkari AI told John. “And you have a decision to make.”Snapshots of John and Sam's developing relationship in an AU season 5, set between 5x15 "Remnants" and my other story "Some Corner of a Foreign Field".
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/John Sheppard
Series: SCOAFF!verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1989796
Kudos: 5





	1. Threshold

**Author's Note:**

> These scenes were intended to be part of a prequel to SCOAFF, but I've now given up on trying to complete that story. So, I'll instead share these snapshots for any who might be interested in reading them.

“The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” – Chinese proverb

* * *

_Set after episode 5x15, “Remnants”, about_ _three months before "Some Corner of a Foreign Field" starts._

_**Late September, 2008.** _

Beyond the horizon, the sun was setting - or had in fact already set, if you knew the science behind it. Either way, John felt the last of its warmth run down his skin before it was replaced by a cool shadow that made him flush and shiver.

Or maybe it wasn’t that. Maybe it was the woman next to him, who'd just brushed her hand against his where it rested on the balcony railing. 

Stunned, John glanced at Sam, whose guarded expression equalled his. She said nothing, though. Just remained by his side in silence; a source of warmth and comfort as always, but newfound tension as well. One he felt compelled to attribute to the electric air that’d burst to life between them.

“Rough day, huh?” Trying to shrug off the tingles down his spine, John gripped the railing a little harder and stared out on the sunset.

“Yes,” Sam said simply, and the fact that she didn’t try to brush it off with some familiar quip or optimistic comment made John’s shoulders tense further. “You too, I take it?”

John clenched his jaw, the memories still too fresh. Especially with _her_ here next to him, when only half a day ago she’d lain broken and bloodied in his arms. Or a hallucination, to be precise. The ‘manifestation of his darkest fears’, apparently – brought to him by the hands of a Kolya impersonation.

 _“Now you know the truth,”_ the Sekkari AI had said before disappearing from the forest clearing on the mainland. _“And you have a decision to make.”_

A damn near impossible one.

Shifting on his feet, John let out an involuntary half-sigh, half-groan. Sam, although she glanced at him, didn’t comment.

She _did_ , however, deliver another shock to his system. “To me, the AI took on your form.” 

John’s eyes widened and he swung around to meet Sam’s before he could stop himself. She wasn’t looking at him, though. She’d leaned forward on the railing, her indescribable expression lit by the reddish-yellow hues of the sunset beyond the horizon. It was like she was a million miles away.

“It wasn’t like that time with the crystalline lifeform,” Sam said quietly. “No nightmares. Or…at least not _that_ kind.” Something shimmered in her eyes as her voice drifted off.

Again, John’s whole body tensed up. The air had grown still, magnetic as if the weight of the unspoken electrified it.

“It told me I knew the truth now,” Sam continued, straightening up and seemingly gathering her wits back about her. “That I had a decision to make.”

That echoed too much with John’s own memories that this whole line of conversation gained a new, tormenting perspective. He forced his gaze back on the horizon, unable to watch what’d unfold on Sam’s face if she finished what he wondered – _hoped?_ – she’d finish.

She didn’t say it with words, though: upon the railing, her hand covered his.

John’s body jerked in response, every nerve on fire. Wide-eyed, he stared at the smaller hand upon his. Hot and moist, it trembled as it lay there, but it also stood its ground. Didn’t move off. Just like the Samantha Carter of SG-1 legends. Just like his Sakkari-origin hallucination. 

But even so, he had an instinctual urge to shrug her off. It was like that Cash song, after all. John was a solitary man. Burnt too many times and too likely to burn others in return. He didn’t want that for _her._ Especially not after all she’d told him in confidence about her past, or from what he’d gathered from between the lines.

Besides—

_“You torture yourself every day, John.”_

The Sakkari AI’s Kolya voice flashed through his mind, causing him another jolt of shock. Involuntarily, the accompanying memory resurfaced: of him on the ground with Sam’s lifeless, blue eyes staring straight up at him, her lips parted with the sentence she never got to finish.

_“But in this case, it was **your** mind manifesting your darkest fears. You were the architect of your own self-deception.” _

…well, _damn_.

* * *

The silence was unbearable. Sam felt each passing second drove the nails just a little further into the coffin that held her courage right now. Soon, it’d be buried six feet under and she’d never be able to look into John’s eyes ever again.

_Shouldn’t have done it. Shouldn’t have risked—_

She shook her head, but that only brought out the memories of her day with the Sekkari AI’s impersonation of John. Which, as it happened, had ended much similar to what she’d just inflicted upon _him_ : the two of them on a secluded balcony – _their_ balcony – only with his hand upon hers and his words…saying far more than they should.

It’d been what’d clued her in on the hallucination and made her seek out the truth. What she hadn’t expected, however, were the John impersonation’s words to her later.

 _“I’m a physical manifestation of your subconscious romantic and sexual ideals.”_

For the umpteenth time, Sam’s cheeks flared as red as they’d done in her quarters. Upon the railing, her hand slipped off John’s.

He caught it.

Sam’s eyes widened. Looking up, they locked with John’s. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was blushing as hard as her. More so when he entwined her fingers in hers and held on, his palm as hot and moist as hers.

“John…”

"I'm not very good at these things, y’know.” He looked down at their joined hands, by all appearance both flummoxed and determined by its existence.

Sam didn’t say anything at first, still managing the shock. When she did, she found herself falling back on something that’d become an instinct when it was just the two of them. “What, talking?”

John snorted with laughter, and the action seemed to ease back some of his tension. She relaxed a little at that.

"Something like that,” John murmured.

Daring to twine her fingers more around his, just to test the waters, Sam gave him a watery smile. “If it helps, this might be something we shouldn’t really _talk_ about.”

He froze at that. Just for a moment, but enough for her to see the realisation sink in. That this wasn’t an easy or risk-free choice for either of them. The Air Force regulations were still set in stone. Any transgression, if it came to light, could tear them down. She’d come close to learning that the hard way back with SG-1.

But something felt different this time. It had ever since she’d arrived on Atlantis to take command after Elizabeth Weir. And the Sekkari AI had opened her eyes to why.

_A hand upon hers, holding it tight, with words of…_

“All right.”

Shock came first. Then a wide, happy, scared grin filled Sam’s entire expression.

John returned it, so much wider and honest than the one he usually gave people. And it felt like that moment right before an F-302 take-off when her body was locked between weightlessness and gravity. The only thing that kept her anchored was his hand in hers.

"So…" John began. Behind him, the setting sun reflected off the balcony in a wonderful display of reds and yellows. It made his eyes twinkle. "One step at a time sound okay?"

Exhilarated and giddy like a teenager, Sam squeezed his hand. "One step at a time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those unfamiliar with SCOAFF (Some Corner of a Foreign Field), and with the premise for the Sam & John relationship that I set up there, here are some facts about the background:
> 
> > Storyline follows the SGA canon up until season 5. (Only change is that their friendship deepens off-screen.)  
> > Then, after Sam's replaced with Woolsey, the storyline veers off from canon, and she eventually returns as commander. 
> 
> The idea I had here, and which would have been covered by the prequel, was that many people (both on Atlantis and on Earth) weren't happy with the IOA sidelining Sam. These people would then work behind the scenes to have her reinstated, and she'd return to Atlantis sometime between "Ghost in the Machine" (ep. 5) and "Inquisition" (ep. 13). (I was leaning most towards ep. 5 since it'd offer some nice opportunities to insert her into the Elisabeth/John tension there.)
> 
> Anyway, the details are a bit foggy on exactly how and why Sam would be reinstated, as I never managed to work that out, but long story short: she was. And with her return, she and John would find themselves picking up where they'd left things off, and (sort of unwillingly) develop their feelings and relationship up until "Remnants" when, as you see in this chapter, they decide to take the plunge. 
> 
> The intention of the prequel was to show the build-up to the decision covered in this chapter, and which then sets one of the premises for SCOAFF. And it wouldn't be an easy build-up, since both Sam and John had to work their way through a lot of stuff before they'd be ready to consider crossing the line. 
> 
> Anyway, hope that might clarify things a bit? Or maybe no clarification was needed. Oh well. :)


	2. Line crossed

_After General Hammond’s funeral_

**_Early November, 2008_**

She didn’t know how long she stood on the platform, completely still, her overnight bag heavy in her hand, the thick material of her dress blues not shielding her from the sudden cold. The Atlantis gate room was dimmed, with a sliver of moonlight shining through the tinted mosaic behind the stargate. She stared at it, but didn’t see it.

In her mind’s eye, she saw the flag-covered coffin and heard the bagpipes play. The General stood on one side, back straight, dress blues crisp and square, and Daniel stood on the other, hands in his pockets. Vala clung to his other arm, sniffling a little. Teal’c was on the General’s other side, stoic and silent, with Cam next to him, equally crisp in his dress blues.

“Sam.”

Not one of her team’s voices. John.

Sam looked up and saw John coming towards her, his eyes meeting hers. Something pulled her forward before she remembered to hold back. There were still technicians and security on duty. They weren’t alone.

John halted, hesitated, and looked uncertain. But he knew. She could see it in his eyes, those dark orbs that spoke to some inner part of her she denied to others. He knew.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you to your quarters.”

Sam nodded and finally broke her stance. Slowly, step-by-step, she went forward and John fell in step with her, careful not to touch her.

Their walk was silent, with only Sam’s high heels echoing in the empty, dim corridors of Atlantis. The overnight bag felt heavier and heavier, and she began to slow down as they neared her door.

She barely noticed that John input her code to the door and gently brushed her across the shoulder. Sam just moved one foot in front of the other, and the bag slipped from her grip as she stepped across the threshold.

Lights turned on, revealing her quarters. A bed, a desk, a bookcase with some assorted paraphernalia and books, and a closet. Sam stopped in the middle of the room, staring into nothing.

Those damn bagpipes. It brought it all back. The folded flag put in her hands, which she handed over to Mark as soon as she had the chance. That old pain hadn’t gone away, and yesterday had shown that. Tears threatened to build up in her eyes. Sam’s breath hitched.

John laid his hand on her shoulder and pulled her close. Sam gripped the back of his BDUs tightly, cuddling closer to John’s chest, but no tears fell. She breathed through the hiccups, just like training and experience had taught her. She wouldn’t budge. She couldn’t let him see her like that.

One of his hands ran over her hair and John kissed her forehead, still as silent as the walk to her quarters, except for the heart that beat steadily beneath her ear. Sam breathed him in: his scent, his presence, his warmth. He was real. He was there, and she didn’t want to be alone.

“Stay,” she said.

John’s embrace tightened. He kissed her forehead again and said, “Sure?”

Sam knew what it meant. They both did. It’d be the line that could never be uncrossed. Once across, there was truly no way back. They’d avoided it so far.

“I’m sure,” Sam said. She pulled back so she could meet his eyes, which searched her face for confirmation. “Stay.”

No more needed to be said. John caressed her cheek with his thumb and Sam felt the bagpipes drift away into memory. She focused on his touch, closed her eyes and breathed.

* * *

Sam woke to his gentle touch across her temple. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but light streamed through the windows along with a soft breeze that smelled of salt. John was propped up on one arm, his warm skin connected to hers from toe to hip. He didn’t smile, but his touch was light and soft.

“Hey,” Sam said, her mind slowly emerging from the dullness of sleep. She blinked a couple of times, then turned so she could face him. John adjusted but didn’t move away from her. His hand ceased his caress and instead just rested above the top of her head.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, almost groggy. Dark stubble covered the lower part of his jaw, giving him a very handsome look. His eyes, however, looked almost sad and wary.

Sam understood why. There were rules against this sort of thing. They’d just broken them. But in Sam’s opinion…they’d done that a long time ago when they’d allowed themselves to get close in the first place. She couldn’t regret last night, because it was just a natural consequence of the path they’d chosen that night on the balcony.

“Sleep well?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” John nodded, his eyes searching her face. “You?”

“Like a log,” Sam said. She allowed herself a smile.

It seemed to break the ice. John’s lips curled a little as well, and he stroked the top of her head.

Sam shifted closer - very much aware that neither had that much clothes on underneath the covers - and snaked one arm around John’s midsection. She pulled at him and John finally adjusted so she could cuddle up against him. She rested her head on his chest and sighed when she heard his steady heartbeat. It raced a little, but soon began to calm down as silence stretched out. 

“If you ever wanna talk…” John began before drifting off into tense silence. His hand brushed against Sam’s lower back in smooth, comforting motions.

Sam smiled and hugged him closer. “I’ll tell you. Thanks.”

Their eyes met. John’s eyes were dark, wary even, but they softened eventually. Sam reached up and stroked his cheek, the morning stubble raking against her skin. The words didn’t come to her, but it didn’t seem to matter. It rarely did. John knew. His tell-tale smirk said it all. 


	3. Rising tension

_**A week before Christmas, 2008**_

* * *

Exhaustion had eventually made him drift off to sleep. John realised as much when he stirred and cracked one eye open to check the time. 03.47. He’d gotten at least a couple of hours.

One of his arms flung out and felt the sheets behind him. No warmth. He looked sideways in the darkness, but it only confirmed what he’d expected. She hadn’t turned in yet.

With a groan, John swung his feet over the bedside and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Without turning on the light, he reached for his radio on the nightstand. He turned the radio to their secure channel and cleared his throat of grogginess. “Sam? You still up?”

No reply. John tried a few times more before he realised he wasn’t going to get any. It didn’t come as any big surprise. Sometimes Sam disappeared into her own little world, be it some minor science project, calculations or even paperwork. More times than not, he’d have to force or coerce her to get some sleep. He wondered if she’d been like that back at the SGC, or if it was something brought on by her first major command. She never said.

John squinted at the tiny stream of moonlight coming through an open window. Sighing, he groped at the floor until his fingers caught on soft textiles. Within minutes he’d pulled on pants, T-shirt and boots, and left her quarters behind.

In the transporter he couldn’t help stifling a jaw-breaking yawn. He closed his eyes briefly while the familiar tingle sent him off to the main tower.

The doors opened to reveal a dark corridor that lit up slightly when he walked out of the transporter. In familiar steps, John found his way down the narrow corridors and shortcuts until he reached the backdoor of Sam’s office.

He waved his hand above the controls and walked straight in. After just a step inside, he halted abruptly.

Sam leaned heavily on her elbow, which was propped up on the desktop. Her eyes were closed and her mouth half-open. Piles of folders, papers and her earpiece radio surrounded her laptop, which had entered sleep mode – just like her, it seemed.

John smirked; his own tiredness briefly gone. For a moment, he just stared at her. With the oncoming Hive ships and the evacuation of the Pegasus natives in their path, she’d looked so worried lately. He barely managed to get a chuckle or smile out of her these days. Now though, she looked simply adorable.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, John walked over and wished to grab her in his arms. Instead he laid a hand on her shoulder and said: “Sam.”

Sam startled awake. Her elbow gave out and she dunked her head forward before she snapped it back in one, painful motion.

John chuckled. “Not exactly the wake-up I had in mind, but…”

“John?” Sam blinked several times, confused and frowning at him. She rubbed her eyes and stared at her laptop. “Ugh…What time is it?”

“Bedtime,” he said and swivelled her chair around. He grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet.

“But I’m—” Sam gestured feebly to the cluttered desk.

“—done for the night,” John finished. He nodded towards the papers. “This can wait for tomorrow. You need sleep. Preferably at least five consecutive hours.”

“But…but…” In spite of her continued objections, Sam let John lead her away from the office and down the corridors towards the transporter without too much of a struggle.

“No buts,” John said, trying to be as stern as any good 2IC would be. “Ma’am, you look like shit.”

Sam looked at him strangely. If he resorted to actual formal address, then he had to be dead serious…or trying to lighten the mood. At the transporter, Sam stopped struggling and sighed deeply.

“I look like shit, huh?” she asked before the transport went through. Her lips quirked a little. “Worst thing is, I can’t even think of a decent comeback, so I guess you’re right.”

John waited until the tingle had passed and the doors opened to reveal the level containing most of the senior officers’ quarters. “I’m always right. Thought you’d have figured that out by now.”

Sam chuckled, a tired sound that made John even more determined to get her to bed – just for sleep, though. The fact that she almost dragged her feet only strengthened his resolve.

They got out of the transporter and turned down the corridor towards Sam’s quarters. As usual, they walked side by side at a respectable distance. That’s why John’s heart nearly leapt into his throat when Sam brushed her hand against his. His instinct told him to check if someone had seen, but they were already at her doorstep and Sam input her code.

He hesitated at the doorstep as Sam entered, her quarters lighting up at the motion. In slightly sluggish steps, Sam went straight for the bed and plopped down with a groan. After a moment, she opened her eyes and looked at him. “You coming in?”

“Yeah,” John mumbled and stepped inside. He slowly found his way back to the bed as Sam sat up and began to shrug out of her clothes and into PJs.

“Could you…could you just hold me tonight?”

Sam’s request caught him a little off guard. In the process of shrugging out of his pants, John felt awkward with her soft, uncertain eyes at him. The tiredness was clear in her features and posture, so he hadn’t planned for anything, but still… there was something about her that made him tense.

“Of course,” John said.

Sam smiled and lay down on her back. She pulled the covers up and stared at the ceiling, but her eyes soon lost focus.

A familiar, nagging worry appeared at the back of his mind as John turned away to pull off his pants and T-shirt. It was the worst one, the kind that kept him awake at night. He pushed it away angrily, reminding himself that he had a beautiful, smart and wonderful woman in his bed. That didn’t happen every day, and certainly not to a guy like him.

After shedding his socks, John went to turn off the overhead lights and returned to the bed. Sam still stared unfocusedly at the ceiling, but when he slid under the covers she turned to him and smiled.

Instinctively, John scooted close and slipped his arms around her. Sam burrowed into his hold with a strength and need that surprised him.

“Um…did something happen today?” John asked awkwardly, leaning his chin on her forehead. Sam nuzzled his neck.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she mumbled and tightened her hold around his back.

Bewildered, John found himself tightening his hug too. They’d reached a point long ago where John thought they’d talk about anything, at least if asked. If Sam didn’t want to say anything…

“Did it have something to do with that call from…O’Neill?” John struggled a little to get the name out. He knew what it meant for her, what the man had meant for her. She’d only spoken of it once, but he’d understood. It was sort of like Elizabeth. That made it harder sometimes.

Sam breathed deeply, inhaling his scent – something he found she apparently enjoyed doing. Eventually she said – in a tone of tiredness and regret: “Yes.”

John’s neck tensed. “I see.”

Sam sighed. “It’s not like that. I can’t talk about it. It’s above your pay grade.”

“Oh.” John frowned. So, it was professional. He could handle that. Or, he was supposed to handle that. His neck wouldn’t relax. “Earth stuff or Pegasus stuff?”

“Nothing to do with us,” Sam explained tiredly. Her tone sounded almost…defeated. “We’ve got our own worries.”

The fact that she said ‘we’ in the sense of ‘Pegasus we’ eased some of John’s worries. He pulled her closer and nuzzled his cheek against her soft hair.

“That can wait,” he mumbled. “No work in bed, remember?”

Sam chuckled, her breath tickling his skin. She pressed a kiss to his neck, sending a hot tingle through his nervous system. “No work. I’m sorry.”

“I asked,” he shrugged. John ran his hand up and down her back in a sort of familiar protective gesture. “Let’s just get some sleep, okay?”

Sam drew back enough so she could meet his eyes. A beautiful smile grazed her lips. “Sounds good. I’m knackered.”

When she looked at him like that, a surge of something jolted through his stomach, and John returned the smile. In moments like these, there was nothing to regret, no rules to break. It was just the two of them, the way he liked it.

With his thumb, he traced her cheek softly. “Me too.”

Sam leaned into the touch and her eyes drifted shut. The worry lines that’d marred her face earlier smoothed out as John planted a kiss on the top of her head.

It didn’t take long before her breaths evened out. Staring at the ceiling, John listened to her sleep, his mind going through his day back to that strange and sudden call from Earth this morning.

They’d already called Atlantis more times in the last week than they’d done in the past three months. Sam hadn’t looked so worried, though, before today. What had O’Neill told her? What’d been so special about today’s call?

John knew he’d have to ask her sometime. Preferably in the morning before he got stuck with planning shifts for the crew that would have to remain on Atlantis over the Christmas holidays.

He looked down at Sam nestled against his bare chest. For a long while, John didn’t do anything else. He just stared. Then he pulled her even closer, stroking his palm over her lower back repeatedly. He knew that, tonight, sleep wouldn’t come easily to him.

**Fin.**

* * *

_To be continued in[“Some Corner of a Foreign Field”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/764818/chapters/1432983)._


End file.
